1950's American Diner

Last week I finally had the chance to visit the 1950's American Diner here in Prato.  As you can guess from the outrageously creative name, the restaurant recreates an American diner circa 1950s complete with neon clocks, elvis music, and old cars out front.  I went with a few of my friends here in Prato.  They have been telling me about this diner since I arrived and new that I had to visit it at some point to test it's authenticity. We started with some fried appetizers, popcorn chicken and fried mozzarella sticks, both of which were decent, likely straight from the frozen box and into the fryer. Maybe not 1950s era food but who doesn't love fried food.  The rest of the menu was very stereotypical American with ribs, a tex-mex burrito, and lots and lots of different types of burgers. I pointed out to my Italian companions that in the 50s there only would have been 2 options, a hamburger and a cheeseburger and that the menu was missing that essential diner item, chicken-fried steak.  Even after explaining what it is, I'm not sure they understood why anyone would ever want to eat that.  I decided that I had to try their "American Ribs".  Unfortunately, they were very un-American.  This cut of ribs had no meat on the bones, only meat between the ribs, and were grilled quickly, not barbecued slowly, leaving them very tough. And, no BBQ sauce on the ribs, just on the side.  They still tasted okay, but certainly not a good representation of American BBQ ribs. Though the 1950's American diner puts up a good facade, I have to say their food does not do the American diner justice. I hear there is another American style diner in Florence, hopefully they have better diner food.

They got the beer right, Budweiser

Tex-Mex Burrito - not bad for a burrito in Italy,
ranch dressing on top was odd

My "American Ribs"

It was absolutely packed! They are making a killing just serving hamburgers and frying frozen food.

"Appointment"

On Friday, a bit jet-lagged from the late arrival the previous night, I woke up early to get ready for my "appointment" at the questura (police station).  I say "appointment" because as the police officer put it, the appointment is "merely a suggestion".  So even though I had an "appointment" at 9:00 AM to get my permesso di soggiorno (permission to stay longer than 90 days) I was told I would have to wait outside with the other 100 or so people and get a number. That's right, you have to wait to get a number. Think about that one for a second.  Mind you it was about 34°C outside. Pleasant. None of that famous Italian hospitality here, no.  On top of all of this, Gabrielle, the father of the family that I've been staying with, was accompanying me. I felt terrible that he would be standing out in the cold because of me.  
After an hour of waiting I received a number, 61, and was told to wait until they called my number at a who-the-hell knows time.  They only have room for 30 people inside, so the first 30 went in and we were left in the cold.  Figuring it would be at least 30mins but likely much more we warmed up with a coffee across the street.  Two hours later my number is called and as we head into the questura they tell Gabrielle he isn't allowed to come in, only people requesting a permesso can enter. I'm thinking "Great, everything is going to be in Italian. I'm tired and cold, hopefully it goes smoothly."  Inside is, you guessed it, more waiting! Multiple windows, no actual lines just 30 people pushing and trying to get served next.  
Finally, an hour later, now four total, I reach an officer.  He takes a quick look at my application and says something in rapid Italian. I ask if he speaks English. Someone else helps, they want a copy of my rental contract.  Nowhere in the application or online does it say anything about this. I brought literally everything else but this. So I tell them I am staying with friends. They then tell me I need an invitation letter filled out, which I already did to get my visa in San Francisco, and they want a copy of the deed to the family's house. I immediately get the sense that the majority of their job is finding ways to turn people away. Somehow Gabrielle snuck into the room, thank God. They have a heated discussion and he calls Lila, his wife, and has her bring the deed down to the station.  More arguing, it looks like even if we bring it here, I probably won't get my permesso.  Lila arrives and they tell us that they can't make copies for us. Of course, how stupid of us. Even though I saw them make a copy of the invitation form 10 min earlier.  Then they tell me that my application has been blocked by Rome.  They're scan of my application made my copy of my passport and visa unreadable and they couldn't make out a "K" on one line.  Did they bother to actually look at the paper application? No.  Lila resolved these issues but we were told we still have to bring a copy of the deed back on the 29th. 
"But do I have to wait in line and get a number again?" 
"Of course, there is no way to skip the line." said the officer, muttering something about the United States.
What a pleasant welcome back to Italy. I can't even imagine what it would have been like if I had tried to do all of this on my own.  Lila knows someone who works at the questura and we think she might be able to help us avoid the lines and submit the document separately.  Stay tuned for more adventures with the Italian government.

Pisa and San Miniato

A couple weekends ago I took a quick, 36 hour trip from Florence to Pisa.  In all my travels around Italy with my family I had never visited Pisa. Along the way from Florence to Pisa there is a small town called San Miniato that is famous for it's white truffles.  I had hoped to make it to their legendary white truffle festival this year but missed it while I was in the United States getting my visa. But I was still determined to visit the town while the truffles were still in season.  So on my way to Pisa Saturday morning I stopped and hiked up to the small hill top town for lunch and to explore.  It was one of the many religious holidays so the busses were barely running, so I hiked 40min or so up to the town and found a restaurant I'd read about, Pepenero.  After a chilling tour of the town, it was only 38F that day, I continued on to Pisa.  

Yes Pisa is famous for it's teetering tower and the Field or Miracles, but in Italy it's also famous for the prestigious university.  As with many university towns, it has a vibrant nightlife. I took a few night shots of the leaning tower then went out for some dinner and drinks.  It was absolutely packed. People out late everywhere.  Though I was out alone, it was a lot of fun people watching and seeing everyone enjoying life.  Sunday morning I climbed the leaning tower and saw more of the city.  It's very weird being at the top of the leaning tower, even though it's only leaning 5 degrees at the top you have this odd sensation that you are slipping off.  I finished the day off with some gelato then headed back to Florence.  I enjoyed my brief time in Pisa but I wouldn't want to spend much more time there as a tourist.  The city is certainly worth spending the night in and shouldn't be relegated to a quick 3hr-see-the-leaning-tower-and-our trip.  But as a tourist, I wouldn't to spend more than 36 hours there.  Check out some pictures from my trip below!

San Miniato sitting on a classic Tuscan hill

 Lunch from Pepenero

Amuse Bouche - Pumpkin Pudding with garbanzo and Szechuan peppercorn puree. Delicious.

Primi - Fried eggs with White San Miniato Truffles. Truffles were very fragrant but very subtle flavor. Eggs weren't seasoned at all. Much better once I finally got some salt.

Secondi - Pork medallions with mashed potatoes and a vin santo sauce. I loved this dish. Perfect sauce for the pork

San Miniato tower

Beautiful views from San Miniato

Pisa

Panorama from the top of the leaning tower

Holding up the leaning tower....not so clever anymore

Field of Miracles

Inside of Pisa's Duomo 

Italian Red-Tape

I apologize in advance for both the length and the ranting nature of my first post, but it's been a long week full of wrong turns. Feel free to skim as needed!

Last weekend when I got on my flight at San Francisco, visa in hand, I thought that I had successfully navigated the Italian red-tape. Little did I know miles more were waiting for me when I landed back in Italy.  No I did not have any problems entering the country, but everything other than entry into the country has required more and more paperwork. However, it's been a week since I landed, so I will start from the beginning.

If it all possible, don't fly Virgin Atlantic. Certainly not the worst airline, but there are far better. The food is exceptionally bad, their "elite entertainment system" that tout in all of their commercials didn't work for both trans-Atlantic flights, and they forced me to check and my carry-on rolling bag, for $60, since it was over their 15lb limit for international flights (mind you we were on a 747, with 1/3 of the seats empty, so there was plenty of space for my bag on board). Choosing to save money to fly in and out of Milan turned out to just make a long travel day even longer. On Sunday, Italy for all intents and purposes, slows to a crawl. This means the trains run less frequently and meant I had to take the train from the airport to one station then take a subway to the central station where I could then take the high-speed train to Florence. Thankfully, my hosts picked me up at Santa Maria Novella in Florence and I didn't have to wait for the train to Prato. The Italians truly the epitome of hospitality; I was greeted with an amazing, Bistecca Fiorentina, quickly grilled over coals in their home fireplace.

Andrea, the orthopedic surgeon I'm working for, and I planned to meet on Tuesday, so I had Monday to myself.  Tuesday, I went to Florence to begin the seemingly endless river of paperwork.  On my way to the hospital (known as Villa Ulivella) I stopped by ENAIP, my private work sponsor, to let them know that I received my visa and that they could send me a bill for their service. My sponsor is extremely kind and generous and was happy to see that everything worked out and told me to come to her if I had any work problems. It's nice to know that there's someone here on my team.  At Ulivella I found Andrea swamped with surgeries and spent most of the morning following members of his team Lorenzo and Irene. Lorenzo is a physiatrist while Irene is a rheumatologist, both of whom have private practices, but because Italy's economy is so bad they have second jobs caring for the orthopedic patients at Ulivella each morning.

That afternoon I was summoned to the HR office. They took a copy of my passport and visa and told me that I needed to get a codice fiscale (tax code) and some sort of an Italian bank account.  Also, I was told to return tomorrow to take a security class , at least I think that's what he said in italian, and get my codes for the hospital software.  Wednesday I did just that. I spoke with somebody, all in Italian, and understood about 10% but figured out he was telling me about the risks to my health of working in a hospital. Form signed, on to the next one. IT was next, this was easy, just a quick demo of the software and I was given my login details.  Next up the codice fiscale. This was relatively straightforward, but I didn't have my passport with me so it had to wait till Thursday.

Thursday I hoped to get both my codice fiscale and my permesso di soggiorno (permit to stay/residency permit).  This is where the real paperwork begins.  That morning Irene, Andrea's wife not the doctor, took me to the questura (police station). There was a large line out front and I immediately thought I would be waiting there all day. Irene spoke with an officer and we were told to go to the post office to get the proper forms and were left with the impression that we were supposed to bring them back to the questura. How stupid of us to assume that they would provide the proper paperwork! Next I went to the tax office, this time with my passport, and received my codice fiscale easily, just a nice 1 hour wait.  I then went to the post office to get my forms for the permesso di soggiorno. Forms in hand I came back to the house and filled them out. The officer told us that they only handle 30 applicants a day (hard working public officials!) so I arranged a ride back to the questura at 7 the next morning. 

Friday morning we returned to the questura to stand in line again outside, in the cold 40 degree weather. Thankfully, Gabrielle asked an officer what we needed to do. I think the officer probably laughed at us in his head when we told him we brought the completed forms. This is Italy, you can't possibly expect it to be that easy. No, we had to return to the post office and send them to the questura for the small postage of 30euros. On top of that you must get a tax stamp for 15 euros and also pay 107 just for the permesso. Red-tape everywhere. Thank God I have an Italian family to help me with the process or else I would have been completely lost.  As instructed, we sent the papers from the post office and I have an appointment for Jan 4th to get my permessso.  

I've spent the rest of the weekend searching for rooms to rent in Florence. Yesterday I saw a couple apartments but think there are probably better ones out there so I am going to keep looking.  I am trying to find a place fairly close to the city center, but towards the North so that I can ride a bike to Ulivella. Today I went for a long run before we had pranzo. Pranzo is Italian for lunch, but on Sundays it's special. Each Sunday the entire family, aunts, uncles, grandparents, etc., gather for a big extended lunch. Today for primi we had tortellini in a cream sauce. Per secondo, brassato which is braised beef and contorni of roasted potatoes, sauteed artichoke hearts, and broccoli rabe. And that's not it. For dolci there was pear tart.  Needless to say I was stuffed after dinner had trouble staying awake the rest of the afternoon.  Hopefully all my paperwork is done and next week I will truly begin start working.